Vabazeri
by Rozielle
Summary: "Your soul cries for a purpose and I am here to give it one..." Self-insert; Part I/V: Vasa Ja-kha'jay - Beneath the Lunar Lattice
1. Azura's Benediction

_**Disclaimer: ** I do not own anything pertaining to The Elder Scrolls franchise. It belongs to Bethesda and other respective sponsors. I am not receiving any monetary benefit from writing this fan-fiction; it is purely for my own and others' entertainment._

_**Author's Note:** Okay, so I've been tossing this idea around in my head for a while and finally decided that I wanted to write it. However, I had a lot of reservations about starting this fan-fiction because I've seen some fanfics where people insert themselves into their favorite worlds and I've found some of them kind of obnoxious. They didn't appear to have any sort of dynamic to them. I also didn't want to be associated with that category of self-insert, but then I've been considering how interested my close friends have felt regarding these little stories of mine. I figured also that I might be able to provide a new angle on a self-insert fic. Beyond that, I've refrained from writing a fan-fiction because I haven't written one in a couple of years._

_For the title of the fic, I chose the Khajiit word "vabazeri", which means "becoming." The first part is called "Vasa Ja-kha'jay" meaning "Beneath the Lunar Lattice."_

_Either way, I hope you enjoy it. Also, I'd like to ask for those of you who don't enjoy it, to give me some constructive criticism instead of flaming me. I don't appreciate flaming._

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_**Vabazeri**_

_**Part I: Vasa Ja-kha'jay**_

**Chapter 1**

**Azura's Benediction**

_August, 2012_

I couldn't really remember the last time my cousins and I got together. Perhaps we were about thirteen or so but since then, we'd been so caught up in our own lives that we rarely got the time to really sit down, relax, and enjoy ourselves together. Tonight seemed to be a good night for that though. I tagged along with my grandma to Wisconsin Dells, where Uncle Don's camper was placed smack-dab in the middle of a thousand or so other campers, set right along the river. When I got there, I was totally taken in by the ambiance of the wood and river, the scent of the pine and the sound of children's laughter. The place had an aura of happiness around it and it sunk into my skin as easily as the sunlight.

Seven o'clock rolled around and the booze was really starting to pour. "Ashey, Ashey," my cousin Britt slurred, suddenly reminding me of my childhood when everybody affectionately referred to me as either "Ashey Jo" or "Monkey." Britt smacked me in the arm to get my full attention. We were sitting under the porch built against the side of the camper. There was a bar at the center with a frosted glass surface and several large stools around it for us to lounge in. I was buzzed since Britt had been filling up my glass consistently for the past three hours. The taste of orange juice and vodka clung to my tongue as I turned to her, taking another drink out of my cup. "Take another shot with me."

Katie interrupted me as I reached to pick up my shot-glass so that Britt could fill it with vodka. "Here, try some of this." She set down a clear bottle with a light brown liquid inside of it, in front of me. On the label, written in cheesy red and yellow letters, the bottle read Hot Sex.

She poured a shot for me and one for herself. "Ha. Hot Sex. I could use some of that," I giggled.

Katie laughed, her blue eyes bright as ever. It was strange how much Katie and I looked alike. We both had long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, though Katie's complexion was splashed with little red freckles. Britt, on the other hand, was dark haired and tanned. She shared the similarity of our blue eyes. Each of us were twenty-one now. "Yeah, me too," Katie agreed.

Her words left a bitter taste in my mouth, as her good-looking boyfriend sat on the swing not far away. I'd been feeling especially lonely lately, as I didn't have the time or money to invest in a relationship and hadn't had the means to do so in well over two years. I hadn't even had a lay in that time (not counting the two weeks of terrible lays during the drama with my ex last spring) and to say that I was envious of my cousin's ability to get good-looking guys to follow her to bed was an enormous understatement. There was also my issue of being attracted to older men. I didn't want a guy my age because I couldn't relate to a guy my age, but older men tended to look the other way simply because I was too young or at least, seemed too young. So there was a gnawing feeling of hopelessness where my love life was concerned and I didn't want to hear her tell me she could use some hot sex because she'd more than likely screwed her boyfriend earlier in the afternoon. "Oh, be quiet. At least you've got a man who will give you some."

Katie laughed and nodded. "Yeah, that's true."

"So what is this?" I asked, lifting my shot-glass and sniffing at the spirits. The smell was reminiscent of chocolate, but that scent in itself was drowned away by the mouth-watering scent of barbecued chicken cooking on the grill.

"Something amazing," she grinned, picking up her glass. The two of us waited patiently for Britt to finish yacking her boyfriend's ear off about something or another, and we clinked our glasses together, giving a hoorah to our lives. I downed my shot, enjoying the way the alcohol burned my throat on the way down. I could taste chocolate and crème, mixing together in the sweetest thing I'd ever tasted since Tequila Rose. I moaned with delight at the pure orgasm the drink gave my taste-buds and set down my shot glass. "Oh my god!"

"Right?" asked Katie, leaning forward on the bar.

"That's...that's...so good," I gushed. "Almost as good as sex."

"I told you it was amazing." Katie looked more than a little amused, taking in my reaction to her favorite drink. She and I were similar that way. We delighted in peoples' reactions to just about anything. I imagined it had something to do with the fact that we were both artists, she the painter and I the writer. It was why Katie and I understood each other, of all of our cousins, the best. Nobody in our family could really understand what kind of a blessing and curse it was to be an artist. A blessing because we were given the gift of color and creativity, woven into the very sinews of our hands; and it was a curse because it left us drowning in trying to understand ourselves in the human condition when we were on an entirely different wavelength from everyone else. It set us apart from others and for me, brought loneliness.

That wasn't to say there weren't people like us because anyone could be an artist but honing those abilities and being observant of everything around us wasn't exactly something everyone took the time to tap into, but there was never a time when I didn't feel different from everybody else and not in a way that said I was unique or touched by the hand of God or anything like that. Merely that I didn't feel I belonged and I felt I couldn't really relate to the people I was around. It was a lingering feeling, but thankfully, the drinks I downed were now starting to numb away that feeling.

The night carried on and I found myself drunker than I'd been in some time. I usually didn't bother to drink all that much, just special occasions such as these. My dad smiled, amused, when I, the easy-going drunk, cuddled up to him on the couch-swing, despite being angry at him for the past two weeks for a reason I couldn't recall, and ate my barbecue chicken so enthusiastically that I had an over-extended, sticky brown smile across my cheeks once I finished. Laughing, he gave me a little push out of the swing and told me to go wash my face.

This was probably one of my happier nights. Tonight the very air was calm and my spirit was in its very own zen.

The sun fell on the horizon and my eyes danced as I stood. It was then that I noticed it. In the fire of our barbecue pit, for the briefest moment, I could have sworn that I saw a woman's face. It was angular and her ears were pointed. Her eyes were ablaze and she was smiling. However, as soon as I saw it, it disappeared as the flames flickered. Even in my drunkenness, I could tell that that was just odd. Promising myself that I wasn't that drunk (or high, for that matter, as I'd never been before in my lifetime), I went to wash my face, my gait a little heavy. When I reached the bathroom to wash my face, it struck me that I couldn't feel my lips and I panicked a little, looking in the mirror to make sure that they were still there, little streams of water streaking my pale cheeks. I found my reflection staring at me.

A dazed-looking blonde girl looked back at me. Blue eyes veiled by a pair of glasses, brown and oval-shaped. She wore no make-up and had a little acne on her forehead, reminiscent of her teenage years and deciding to dog her into her adulthood. Her long hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and she wore a red hoodie. She blinked and when her eyes opened again, a tall, slender woman stood just to her right. The woman was a strange-looking creature, but undeniably female. Her skin was the color of the night sky and her eyes were rubies. Again, the pointed ears and the angular face, the woman from the fire? She wore a blue gown that sparkled against the dim light of the bathroom and her wrists adorned golden bangles.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose, stinging me with nervousness. I was awestruck by her beauty and the curiosity of her. _I must be dreaming,_ I thought. _There's no way a creature like her exists here. _I felt my heart start to pound against my chest. I didn't know what to do. Should I scream? Surely this was some sort of drunken hallucination or another product of my ever-growing imagination. If I screamed, everyone would come running into the bathroom to see if I was okay and probably find me staring, mouth agape, at a hallucination. They would laugh and I would feel stupid.

There was a knowing smile on the creature's mouth. "Hello, Nerevarine," she whispered, her voice laced with power, as if there were ten more voices echoing in her throat.

_Did she just speak?_ I asked myself. _And what did she just call me? 'Nerevarine'? I haven't heard that word in years. Not since.._

I felt a sleepiness overtake me. My eyes drooped and my whole body grew weak with fatigue. I fell but I didn't know where. It was as if my feet came out from underneath me and everything went black.

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I drifted then, through stars and black skies. I felt calm, far more calm than I'd felt with my family along the river. I felt like a child, wrapped safely in her mother's arms, any worries placated purely by the embrace. Nothing could touch me. Nothing could harm me. The woman's voice reached deep within me, resonating and vibrating, as if she were touching my very soul. _**You have been taken from all that you know. Your soul cries for a purpose and I am here to give it one. You have been chosen.**_

_For what purpose? _I asked, though no words emitted my mouth.

_**Prophecy. It is your destiny. **_She spoke with certainty.

_I don't believe in destiny. _It was something I had never believed in. Sure, there were things that were simply meant to be, things that felt fine and right, but destiny? I would choose my destiny. I would choose my path. That was how it had always been and always would be.

_**Perhaps you should.**_

_Will there be fighting? _That always seemed to be a case with stories. There was always a fight to be had and won.

_**Much. And only until you fulfill your destiny will you be able to return home.**_

She spoke as if she knew and as if I had no choice. The American in me wanted to scream at this woman that I was from the Land of the Free and no way in hell was she going to tell me what to do or how to live, but I knew better. I didn't even know this woman. It wasn't right to be disrespectful towards her, no matter the situation. Beyond that, if she was some sort of goddess, offending her ought to be the last thing on my mind. I wondered though if I was truly bound to this, body and soul.

_ Am I bound?_

_**You are bound.**_

I began to worry. I didn't know much about fighting, save for a self-defense course I took almost a year ago, which taught me the basics of how to defend myself. If there was going to be fighting and war, I would need to be prepared. I couldn't fulfill this prophecy of hers if I couldn't defend myself. _I don't know much about fighting._

_**I will give you to the desert-peoples of Elsweyr. They will train you in their ways and send you on your way when they deem you ready for this task. I leave you with Mother Ri'lujayn.**_

I was unsure what to say when she made her decree. After all, it seemed there was nothing I could do but go through with it. I wondered again if this was a dream or a hallucination. I ought to be able to wake myself up, if that were so, but as I willed myself to wake, the goddess' voice found my soul again, wrenching me from her reality.

_**Wake up!**_

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_Read and review, please? I would love to know what you think! Expect a second chapter sometime next week!_


	2. Star-Child

_**Disclaimer: ** I do not own anything pertaining to The Elder Scrolls franchise. It belongs to Bethesda and other respective sponsors. I am not receiving any monetary benefit from writing this fan-fiction; it is purely for my own and others' entertainment._

_**Author's Note: **Just for future reference, I will be answering your reviews. It's just something I love to do and it gives me a chance to recognize you and thank you personally. Also, sorry for the lateness! Finals suck and I've been concentrating on writing my novel!_

_**To Alone in the light: **Thanks for your review! I appreciate your honesty because I am rather worried about how this fanfiction will be received. Not so much because I'm worried about "Oh my god, what if they don't like my writing?" I just want to be as true as I can to the lore and realities of Tamriel. I really have no intentions on sugar-coating the reality of this world and the kind of crap I'm going to be putting myself through in the future of this fic (as that tends to happen in a lot of self-insert fictions). You mentioned that you don't care for the Khajiit and I can respect that. Everyone has their favorites and least favorites. (I personally hate Altmer.) Haha, but I didn't choose them necessarily because "OMG, KITTEH PEOPLEZ! 3" I grew up with Everquest in the household so kitty people are kind of old news for me (the cat people in that franchise are called Vah Shir). I chose the Khajiit because 1) Azura created them and she is the patron-Prince of this game, 2) I wanted to subject myself to harsh conditions without getting my ass kicked immediately upon arrival (because we all know how much Dunmer **love** Nords – I've got a lot of Swedish and Norwegian blood in me. I seriously look like a Nord.) and 3) I wanted to explore the culture of the Khajiit in more depth (the whole being bound to the moon phases is just cool to me.)_

_Also, I promise there won't be any kitty/human action going on. That's akin to bestiality in my mind and just...yick. No thank you._

_**To Newtinmpls: ** A thank you for your review as well! And I'm trying to proceed as cautiously as possible as well, simply because I only have a limited resource regarding the Khajiit and Elsweyr so I'll be drawing inspiration from other sources._

_**Chapter 2**_

_**Star-Child**_

I woke, wrenched from the goddess' reality and into another. I didn't just wake either; I fell. I fell as if someone had tossed me from the top of a tower and I magically landed on the ground with minimal damage to my body. I struck the ground on my belly and feeling the wind knocked from my lungs, I struggled to breathe. I tried to gasp for air, only to inhale sand. Coughing wildly, I pulled myself up onto all fours. I couldn't get enough air into my lungs without pulling the sand I'd inhaled further into my nose and throat. My eyes watered, my body began to sweat, and I was so busy worrying about being able to breathe that I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings.

It was my first mistake.

My scalp burned as a hand took a fistful of my hair, wrenching my head back painfully. I gasped for air, finally feeling the burst of oxygen I needed to breathe properly. My eyes, though blurred, cleared quickly as I blinked the tears away but suddenly I was very aware of a handful of sharp claws being pointed at my jugular.

It was then that I made my second mistake.

Some six months prior to my uncle's party, my mother enrolled herself, my sister, and I into a women's self-defense program and we'd spent eight weeks training for a possible assault on our persons. Our teacher had explained to us that every person has a dog inside of them and most days, this dog is passive. However, when under extreme stress, the dog will either cower or fight. It was more or less his way of explaining fight-or-flight to people who weren't aware of what that was. His desire was to teach our inner dog to, instead of freeze up during an assault, to turn on the anger and use it to our advantage. I could remember going into the class feeling mousy and unsure of myself, and coming out feeling much more confident and unafraid. A lamb into a lion, so to speak.

Now, however, that was not the case and my hand came up, gripping the wrist of the person that grabbed me. I shoved its hand away from me quickly and very aware of its hold on my hair, I jerked upwards into a standing stance, careful to step in towards him, whirled and flung the heel of my palm into its face with a force I hadn't used in a few months. A distinct cracking noise found my ears and the heel of my hand stung with the force of the blow. I was hardly as strong as I was all those months ago but there was a little relief in that I could still remember some of the movements.

The creature let out a yowl and released me, stumbling backwards with its hands over its nose. The sight of this creature startled me, as it looked very much like a cat on two legs. Its fur was a soft brown, flanked with white. It was bedecked in leather and there were weapons at its hips, which made everything much sharper in my opinion. I knew I wasn't fast enough to dodge knives. I barely dodged the claw it flung at me. The claw caught hold of my hoodie at the arm, tearing the fabric as if it were made of tissue paper. I backed up into a defensive stance, feeling my body tense up, waiting for the next attack. My hands were flat, my right chambered, ready to strike again.

Suddenly, there was laughter and I briefly glanced around. I was in the middle of a crowd full of these cat-people and they were highly amused by the sight before them, speaking in a purring tongue to one another while pointing at me and the other cat. It seemed as if I interrupted a party because several of them were holding cups and sitting around a large bonfire. They were dressed in stunning, colorful kaftans. Beyond them were tents of all colors, vibrant against the firelight, and beyond those were sand-dunes as far as the eye could see.

_You're not in Kansas anymore,_ came Stephen Lang's southern twang in the back of my head.

"That one's stance is poor," came a female voice off to my left. The voice was laced with a thick accent that I couldn't place. I looked towards the voice and found what clearly was a cat-woman. Her fur was the color of charcoal and her eyes were two glowing emeralds with black slits. I was briefly reminded of a Russian Blue. She wore green robes and a strange talisman around her neck. In her hand, she held a silver bowl, though I couldn't see its contents. "Too easy to attack." She purred, almost thoughtfully. "Yes, this one has much work to do." The cat-woman then looked to the injured cat-person in front of me, speaking in the purring tongue. The injured one slipped through the crowd, blood seeping from its nose, head sunk between his shoulders in shame.

I raised a brow. "Who are you?"

"This one is Mother Ri'lujayn," the cat-woman replied. "Azurah sent you to this one."

Azurah. Where had I heard that name before? The goddess had never introduced herself to me. No name was given to me when she stole me from my world and placed me in this one.

The crowd seemed to hush, now only a small beehive of talk. They seemed as curious about me as I was about them.

"And that one's name?" Mother Ri'lujayn questioned.

I blinked, glancing around a bit. "My name is Ash," I answered, quietly, slowly coming out of my reportedly bad stance. I felt foolish but what could be done? I was sure that a lot of the things I did were strange.

Another long, thoughtful purr emitted Ri'lujayn's throat before she turned to the crowd and spoke at length, indicating to me and occasionally to the sky. I had no idea what she was saying but I surmised by the conversation between she and I that she was explaining who I was and where I came from. The cats looked to each other, curious about the situation at hand and finally, when Ri'lujayn stopped speaking, she beckoned to me. "Come," she said.

While I was aware that I was in no immediate danger, I really wasn't sure what was about to happen if I came closer. I stood still for a long moment, glancing around. Everyone watched me with expectant eyes. Apparently, Mother Ri'lujayn was a person of importance and obeying her was in my best interest. I shifted a bit on my feet before finally willing myself to move forward. I stopped in front of her, feeling the nervousness stinging the hairs on my neck again and tying my stomach into unpleasant knots. "This one has told Khajiit that that one is a star-child, blessed by Azurah, Mother of the Night Sky. Azurah has told this one of her intentions. The people will train that one in Rawlith Khaj and give her a new name when she has earned it. Come. Drink."

I could see the contents of the bowl now. There was a milky substance inside of it that glowed softly and smelled sweet. I didn't want to drink it. I didn't know what it was. I didn't know if she intended to poison me or not. Seeing my mistrust, Ri'lujayn's mouth curled in a fanged smile. She drank from it first, a long swallow, before offering the bowl to me again.

Taking the bowl, I brought it to my lips, pausing once more. _Am I really going to drink from this?_ I thought. _I could die._

_ But if you don't, _my sensibility kicked in. _They may take it as an insult and kill you anyway._

What was the bigger risk? Either way, I'd die and be none the wiser, but given that they seemed to hold Azurah in high regard, there was a small part of me that said I was being too paranoid. I poured the contents into my mouth and let it slide down my throat, warming my belly. The taste and texture of it delighted me. If Hot Sex had had a vanilla flavor, that is what this milk would taste like. However, I doubted that Hot Sex liquor hit me with such a pleasurable feeling nor so quickly as this did. My head became light and my vision danced with color and light. The stars above me became bright as ever and the moon, in all her beauty, glowed more brightly than all the stars combined. Every nerve in my body became alive, just the arid wind hitting my skin alone made me moan with delight. The warmth from the fire became more intense, warming my whole body. "Oh," I breathed, closing my eyes and touching my lips. This was ecstasy, this feeling.

There was laughter and Ri'lujayn called out to the people in her purring tongue, who in turn laughed when I stumbled backwards away from her. I staggered but was caught by another Khajiit, as Ri'lujayn called them. As it caught me, music started up, drums and stringed lutes filling the night with music. Talking resumed and I looked up through hazed eyes at the one that caught me. Ri'lujayn's eyes looked down on me, but this one had black markings in his grey fur. "Heheh, first time?" he purred.

"Oh yes," I answered with a dazed smile.

"You will feel it in the morning," the purring Khajiit laughed. "For now, dance!" He gave me a shove forward into a crowd of dancing females, who swept me up in their strange dance.

What happened afterwards was history. I could not recall when I awoke just what had occurred the rest of the night. I could only remember drinking the milk and the divine thrum of my body when I danced. When I awoke, I was lying on my belly in a bed of silken pillows. The first thing I could feel was the pounding in my head and a dull ache in my chest. My throat was dry and my body was lined with a sheen of sweat. I rolled onto my back and groaned when my head spun. My hands cupped my head and squeezed my eyes shut, as if it would stay my blurred vision.

There was a throaty chuckle from nearby and the Khajiit male that threw me into the crowd of dancing females sat just to my right with his digitigrade legs crossed lazily. "I told you you would feel it in the morning," he said. I heard him move closer and when I opened my eyes to make sure he kept a fair distance, I found him holding out a vial filled with a red liquid. It looked like Kool-Aid to me. "Drink this. It will help."

I moved slowly again, as I had with Ri'lujayn, to take the vial. "What is it?"

"What is it?" snorted the creature, a mock on his tongue. "It's a health potion."

I blinked at him and then turned my eyes to the vial. _Why are health potions always red? _I wondered, thinking of all of the video games I'd played over the years and how it never seemed to fail. Health potions were red. Mana potions were blue. Fatigue potions were green. My head continued to pound and as the night before, I decided to heed the Khajiit beside me and opening the vial, I tipped my head back. I drank the entire vial and the effects were instanteous. My head ceased pounding. My chest ceased aching and every muscle in my body that protested last night's dancing ceased to hurt.

_Hello, miracle cure!_

The Khajiit took the vial and I let my head rest, delighting in the fact that I was no longer in pain. "Thank you," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes to further wake myself up.

"I saw you last night," I said after a moment. "What's your name?"

"Do'amran," he said. "I am Ri'lujayn's son."

I nodded in understanding. "I figured as much. You have your mother's eyes."

Do'amran's mouth curled into something of a smile, his white fangs bared. "Yes. I have been told." There was a brief pause of silence between us, as I didn't know what more to say. I wasn't the type to ask questions. I simply followed another's lead and observed, only asking questions when needed. I supposed I ought to have been more inquistive but I was used to figuring out my own answers from books and the like, as I'd learned not to trust the words of individuals over written fact at a very young age. The dictionary was my best friend at one time.

However, Do'amran moved to the other side of the tent and lifted some clothes out of a nearby basket. Turquoise harem pants and a sleeveless, high-necked shirt the color of pink plumerias. "You will wear these," he said, tossing them to me. They fell across my belly and chest. "It is not polite for women in our culture to show their chest fur. You will cover your breasts or the camp will think you dress like a whore."

I was briefly reminded of Islamic culture and how in some more conservative circles, even so much as showing the face or wrists or ankles was considered immodest. They only asked me to cover my chest, which I was capable of doing; even if in my own world, I was used to wearing low-cut shirts. Some of my family members assumed I was looking for male attention but the truth was, I wore them for ventilation. If my chest grew over-hot, then so would my entire body and my tiny body would overheat. I wasn't looking forward to walking around with this high-necked shirt on, but at least it was sleeveless and if I could keep hydrated, I might not suffer heat-injury.

"Also, we do not wear shoes or boots," he said. "Get used to being without them."

I raised a brow, thinking of how hot the sand must be outside. My feet were not leathery as they had been when I was a child. I hadn't ran around barefoot in a long time and the possibility of blisters made me cringe. "Not even my sandals?"

"Not even your sandals," he answered. "Your feet must connect with the earth to help you balance. You will be going through training soon, Ash. You will have to get used to being uncomfortable and sore. Rawlith Khaj is a difficult thing to learn and you are so skinny and unfit. I could knock you over with a feather..."

_Gee, thanks,_ I thought, thinking that I'd held my own pretty well against that Khajiit last night. "Alright," I agreed, quietly, not wanting to be seen as incapable. If there was one thing I didn't like, it was someone telling me that I was this or that and it wasn't positive. It was like my father picking on me about being a wimp and then proving all this last summer that I was tougher than I looked. I spent the whole summer helping him with his trucks and carrying heavy objects and cleaning in the heat. Plus I'd love training with my self-defense teacher. Of course, he had made it fun. Do'amran seemed like the type to make it difficult and challenging, and probably not very fun.

"Put those on and I will meet you outside. Today is a day of rest," he told me. "Last night, you saw the moon festival. We have these once a month when the moon is full and use the moon-sugar milk to connect to Azurah and the Moon herself. Now everyone is winding down so we wll train your mind instead. I will teach you ta'agra, the language of the people, so that you might understand us."

My interest peaked at that. I loved language; in fact, I had aspirations to be a Spanish teacher after finishing up my generals at a local tech college. In fact, I quietly noted now how well Do'amran spoke English...or was it the common tongue here? When Do'amran lifted the flap of the tent and slipped into the hot sun, I laid there for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. Part of me, the side of me that did not want anything more to do with this situation, that begged me not to go outside without my sandals, that pleaded with me not to go out into that baking hot sun with this high-necked shirt on, didn't want to move. I wanted to just sleep and wake up in my uncle's camper with my family and enjoy breakfast, but even as I closed my eyes, I knew it wasn't to be. I asked for a purpose. Azurah was going to give me one and quite frankly, who was I to deny not only Her but myself this opportunity? I could learn to fight. I could meet new people, learn new languages, wear strange-looking clothes, and become this Nerevarine Azurah wanted me to be. I could be someone who would make a difference and that was something so fine and precious. Who could turn their nose up at this opportunity?

My optimism drew me out of my short reverie and I stood up, slipping out of my old clothes and into my new ones. The pants were a bit loose but it was nice that they didn't cling to my body and promise a heat-stroke. The shirt too was a little baggy. I briefly glanced around the large tent for a mirror and found an oval-shaped bronze mirror sitting at the far end with a low-laying vanity and a pillow in front of that. I let myself fall to my knees and pulled the ponytail out of my hair, only to smooth my hair back and tie it up again.

Once I was done, I stared at myself in the bronze mirror. I felt strange in these clothes, in this place, but this was what suited the khajiit and if I was in their land, then I knew I would need to do whatever I needed to do in order to fit in. I would be here for some time.

_Well,_ I thought, _here goes nothing..._


	3. Ma'rawl

_**Disclaimer: ** I do not own anything pertaining to The Elder Scrolls franchise. It belongs to Bethesda and other respective sponsors. I am not receiving any monetary benefit from writing this fan-fiction; it is purely for my own and others' entertainment._

_**Author's Note: **So no reviews this time around. I really appreciate your guys' input so don't be afraid to let me know if I'm doing well or screwing up badly! :) Just to let you guys know, since I have a limited vocabulary to work with where Ta'agra is concerned, I will be drawing from Arabic (since the desert Khajiit remind me of the Bedouin people.)_

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_**Chapter 3**_

_**Ma'rawl**_

The first thing I noticed about the world outside of the tent was how hot the ground was against my feet. Once more, I dreaded the idea of the blisters that were bound to follow. I didn't want to stand there for long and so I followed Do'amran, visibly grimacing at the scalding hot against my toes. He chuckled. "Ignore the pain. Your feet will grow used to it in time," he smirked.

The childish part of me wanted to yell at him but I just continued walking, trying to ignore the hot sand beneath my feet and concentrate on what he wanted to tell or teach me. As we walked along, the colorful tents around us reflected the sunlight, keeping the khajiit within cool. Many had the flaps to their tents open. Some tents were comprised of a family unit, eating what I assumed to be lunch as the sun was high in the sky. Others were filled with young males, sitting around a hookah and laughing at each others jokes. Some had females that were occupied with either the wash, food, or gossip while attending to their cubs. I paused briefly when I saw one group of females in a tent that were sitting on the carpeted floor of their tent. One was a tall female, buxom, and obsidian black, sitting cross-legged on the floor. She held a toddler in her arms, who was eagerly chewing on what appeared to be jerky, while three other babes were curled up across her lap like a litter of kittens. I was quite curious about this: did that mean that khajiit females were capable of giving birth to multiple cubs? Were they that similar to cats?

There was another dusty brown female who had five cubs, curled up together in a basket in front of her while she chatted up her much more busty friend. They were unconcerned about myself and Do'amran, far too interested in what they were talking about to notice that I was staring at their cubs. It took everything in me not to rush over and pick up the babes and hug them to me. They were adorable little creatures and the mother in me just wanted to hold and love them. Growing up, I was the eldest of three children and only recently when my father's girlfriend came into the picture, did the addition of her children make me a big sister of five kids, all of them younger than me, and all of them loved. It was instinctive now that I was a grown woman to be protective of children, even if they weren't my own. Though the way things were going with my love life, the possibility of children being a prospect seemed far off.

"Come," said Do'amran, putting a hand on my shoulder. I could feel the stickiness of my own skin when he touched me, the heat of the sun sinking into pigment and turning it a soft pink (for now.) I would likely burn.

I did as he bade and followed him along. "Where are we going?" I questioned.

"We are going to see Ja'bril," he explained, his tail swaying as he moved on his digitigrade feet. "He will help me teach you ta'agra. He speaks Common Tongue better than I."

"You speak the Common Tongue very well," I complimented, remembering how his mother referred to 'I' as 'this one' and you as 'that one.' It came off strange and did not suit the English language...or Common Tongue as it was known here.

A flash of fangs told me my compliment was welcome and towards the back (or was it front?) of the camp, Do'amran opened the flap to a dark red tent, revealing it to be a moderately-sized tent. There was a desk in front of us and off to the left a bed and some sacks, along with trinkets of all kinds scattered about on trunks and little tables. The carpet beneath my feet was a welcome change from the scalding sand, giving me a little relief.

At the desk sat a white-furred khajiit, bedecked in a long blue robe with golden tribal designs embroidered on the hems of the sleeves and along the neck. He was busy scritch-scratching away with a quill and paper, and didn't notice either of us until Do'amran cleared his throat. "Oh!" he seemed to come to life then, looking up at both of us, only to grin broadly. He had a strange, high-pitched voice, though it was undeniably male and I couldn't help but raise my brow at him. "Oh, the star-child isn't it? My! I tried to speak to you last night but you were far too out of it, poor dear! Was that your first hit of moon-milk?"

I just stared at him. It was weird to listen to him speak. He was so animated about everything, so happy and lively and amused. He also spoke Common Tongue perfectly, no khajiiti accent to be heard. He stood up a bit too quickly and knocked over his inkwell when the desk jumped. He quickly grabbed it up before it could spill on his paper. "Forgive me, I'm quite clumsy!" he said with a nervous smile, before making his way over to me.

He looked far more like a domestic cat than Do'amran, who reminded me more of a lynx. Ja'bril walked around me, taking me in and making me feel very uncomfortable, for his closeness to me seemed to be making him all the animated. He pulled my ponytail up and let it drop, then took a whiff of me, before coming to stand in front of me. I felt as though my personal bubble had been thoroughly popped and it left my body rigid. "Well, you certainly are pretty for a Nord!" he grinned. "It's so strange though! I wonder why Azurah chose a Nord?"

Do'amran smirked as Ja'bril finished his examination on me. "Azurah has always had her own mind," he told the lively khajiit. "We only need to trust her. She says Ash must be trained in Rawlith Khaj but she will be here for some time..."

"Say no more!" Ja'bril exclaimed. "I will gladly teach her ta'agra!" He took my hands and led me over to the farthest corner of the tent where two cushions and a small table were set. He bid me sit down and I did so, starting to worry. Wasn't Do'amran going to join us? I glanced nervously back at the dark-furred khajiit. _What happened to both of them teaching me? Hey! Don't leave me here! He's not all there in the head!_ I thought, panicking a bit because I wasn't sure if I wanted to be left alone with someone so crazy or someone who had just seconds ago called me 'pretty.'

Do'amran only smiled at my terrified glance. His green eyes were calm. _Don't worry, he's harmless,_ they promised. _Trust me._

I felt my heart sink as Do'amran spoke to Ja'bril in Ta'agra, before opening the flap of the tent and slipping out.

"What did he say?" I asked, watching the other leave while Ja'bril seated himself across from me on the other cushion.

"He said he would be back later," the white-furred khajiit explained, clasping his hands together. "Oh, I am very excited to meet you! I can hardly believe it! You must tell me all about you! Where are you from? Do you have more than one name? What is your age?"

I raised a brow, really not in the mood to talk about myself but put my hand up to silence him, which it instantly did. Thank goodness, maybe there was a means to quiet the blithesome khajiit... "My name is Ash, that's all you need to know. And I'm twenty-one."

"Oh really? You should be married already! Do you have a husband?" Ja'bril questioned.

Those words stung significantly. No, I didn't have a husband. I couldn't choose a man that would stick around, let alone act his age and pull his head out of his backside long enough to take in the big picture that was life. I'd only ever dated idiots and the few relationships I did have were short, the longest being four months. They always came off confident and charming and then turnedout to have so many issues they hadn't dealt with...it was too much for me and I always seemed to be the one to leave. Of course, there were times I blamed myself, wondering if I was the cause of this surfacing of craziness or if they were just naturally that way and I had been too enamored to care at the start.

"No offense, but that's not something we're going to talk about," I told him. "You can ask me about my family, my social life, and about my world, but don't ever ask me about my love life. Alright?"

There was a quiet sadness in his eyes as he paused, understanding that I wasn't apt to talking about that side of my life. He must've figured that I had been married and I wanted to correct that. "No, I'm not a widow. I just haven't had very good luck in that area of my life," I told him. "And I would rather not talk about it."

"Oh, I see," he said.

And the conversation became less and less awkward as he asked his questions and I answered to the best of my ability. He was quite excited to hear about technology in Mundo, or so I had taken to calling it. My love for the Spanish language hadn't waned and I wanted to hold onto it as much as I could, as it would surely be lost among the new languages I set to learn. Now, it was ta'agra, which was not a complicated language for a linguist such as myself. We started with some basic greetings before getting into more complicated grammar.

"Tala'jer is hello," explained Ja'bril. "It literally means 'You come!' Jer is 'you' and tala means 'come'. The pronoun will change if you have more than one person that you are greeting. It will become 'Tala'baliji'. Long, I know, and finally, for someone of great importance. Tala'ra'jer." He purred his R's, rolling them with his tongue and towards the back of his throat like a cat. It was a curious thing and I knew attempting to learn the purring R was going to be daunting for me. I had a hard enough time attempting to speak French, spoken much in the middle of the mouth as opposed to the front, as Spanish was.

"Tala'jer...hello to one person. Tala'baliji for more than one," I repeated, purring the sounds to the best of my ability. The repitition would help reinforce the words as I could not see them written. "Tala'ra'jer for an important person." I purred in the back of my throat but it came out rather strangely.

Ja'bril grinned. "Your R is a little off, but close," he said, then repeated the words slowly so that I would understand it. I repeated again, watching his mouth closely. He then explained that placing a gentle touch to your forehead with your right hand. Baring the palms of one's hands was a polite way to greet someone of importance, to show that no harm was intended to them. A simple wave would do for people with whom I was familiar.

The next several hours were spent learning and drinking and making a rather uncomfortable trip out to the local loo, which was nothing more than a hole in the ground with no privacy screens, and then learning some more. It was almost overwhelming how much vocabulary I picked up over the day. I was relieved when Ja'bril explained that two hours following noon, the Khajiit liked to enjoy the optional (but often taken) nap. I was briefly reminded of the Spanish siesta and was extremely grateful for it. Naps were something of a taboo in my family, coming from a hard work ethic that demanded that I work all day and sleep during the night. If you were sick, it was okay, but otherwise, my family disapproved of naps. I, on the other hand, advocated naps, not just as a habit of mine but also because of how it improved my memory. The best thing to do after learning a new skill or absorbing a bunch of information was to sleep for a time so that everything would be routed to the long-term memory and easier to remember later.

Of course, the nap wasn't a long one. Perhaps twenty or so minutes but it was a nice reprieve from barrage of information I was receiving. When I awoke, lying on the floor of the tent, Ja'bril was back at his desk and noting that I was awake, he returned to me and we began again. I learned that the grammar was fairly simple. It followed a Subject-Object-Verb line, and often the idea of 'when' was placed at the beginning. There were few exceptions to the rule, such as saying hello.

It was almost sundown before Do'amran came to fetch me for the evening meal.

"Tala'jer," I greeted, touching my forehead when he entered the tent.

"Tala'jer," he returned with a grin. "Do'jer korabi?"

"Do'azhiss korabi," I smiled, happy that I was finally able to answer the

"Do'," he said, then beckoned to me. "Azhirr beyt khi."

Ja'bril smiled. "Looks like our time is up! I will see you tomorrow afternoon, Ash!" He spoke farewells to Do'amran and I as we headed from the tent.

I found myself back at the tent shortly after. Ri'lujayn and another male and a female that I didn't know were seated in the middle of the tent. Politely Do'amran touched his forehead towards both his mother and the male. Both male and female reminded me of tigers, with orange-ish fur and black stripes along their faces and arms. The male was dressed in an extravagant purple robe with many rings on his hands and a decorative circlet upon his head. The male's hair was black with greying tips, long and braided against his head, while the female wore hers in long dreadlocks. Both had brown eyes. Between Ri'lujayn and the two guests was a huge round plate full of food. The spices struck my nose and my stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten yet. The meal comprised largely of curry and what appeared to be either pita or naan. I wasn't sure. I just knew I was starving and there was a huge plate of food waiting for me.

I touched my forehead to them. "Tala'baliji," I smiled to them. "Do'baliji rabiba?"

"Do'," agreed both khajiit.

"Ma'rawl learns quickly. This one is pleased," Ri'lujayn grinned.

I quirked a brow. "Ma'rawl?" I questioned.

"Mother decided your name today," Do'amran explained to me, seating himself beside his mother.

I followed. "What does it mean?" I questioned.

"Rawl means 'rain'," he said.

Ri'lujayn spoke quickly to her son, leaving me confused as the rest of the group burst into laughter. I couldn't help but feel silly, not understanding what was said. Do'amran just smiled at me. "Mother says she calls you 'Rain' because last night, you rained from the sky and fell flat on your face," he said, clearly amused.

Years of being mercilessly picked on by my father readied me for the humor of this new name. I laughed along then and then asked, "And 'Ma'?"

"Ma' is like...virgin...child..." he said, slowly, trying to reach for the right word in his thoughts. "You are not a woman yet. Not within our people."

I nodded in understanding, making no attempt to be discontented by this. "Will my name change when I am a woman?"

Do'amran smiled. "Yes, it will change when you are a woman and when you make your way in the world. Like how Mother's name is Ri'lujayn. Ri or Ra means honorable title and my name...Do means warrior because that is what I am."

Another nod, and both mother and son turned back to their guests. "These are Dro'hud and his daughter, Ma'huda," Do'amran introduced. "Ma'huda is going to be staying with us also. She will learn Rawlith Khaj with you."

I smiled then to the Khajiit girl but she did not smile back at me until Do'amran explained that I would be joining her in learning Rawlith Khaj. As far as I could see, this was a very good sign, because everything was going to get very difficult tomorrow when we began training and now I wouldn't have to do it alone. Things were always more enjoyable with someone else to join in on the fun.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! And please, let me know what you think of this fic! _

_Also, **glossary** for those interested! I am trying to get the grammar down with this language so bear with me!_

_Tala'jer/Tala'baliji/Tala'ra'jer – Hello – literally 'Come you!', 'Come you (plural)!', and 'Come you(of great importance)!'_

_ *Tala is actually just a word of my making and I'm taking some liberty with the language. It was inspired by the Arabic "ta" which means "come". If you were to say "Come with me!" to a guy in Arabic, it would be "Ta'ala ma'ee!" (It would be "Ta'alay" ma'ee if you were speaking to a girl.) So, you understand where Tala comes from._

_Do'jer korabi?/ Do'kaliji rabiba? - How are you?/You are well? - literally 'Good you have?'_

_Do'azhiss korabi – I'm good._

_Do' – Good/Yes/honorific for a person of the warrior profession_

_*Note, while Do' might be used for the NAME of the sell-sword, the WORD "sell-sword" is actually "jihatt"_

_ *Because I don't actually have a word available for 'yes', I will be using this word as yes from now on. _

_Azhirr beyt khi – We go home. - Literally 'we home go'. _

_ *Beyt is not a vocabulary word from the dictionary; the word 'bayt' is used to mean 'home' in Arabic._

_Rawlith Khaj – "Raining Desert" – A form of Khajiiti martial arts_

_**Names and their meanings**_

_Ri'lujayn – derived from the Arabic name "Lujayn" meaning "Silver"; with Ri as honorific_

_Do'amran – derived from the Arabic name "Amran/Imran", meaning "Kin of the Exalted One"; Do' is his honorific, meaning "Warrior"_

_Ja'bril – inspired by the Arabic name "Jibril," which is the Arabic equivalent of "Gabriel," meaning "hero of God." Ja or J are honorifics for adults._

_Dro'hud – "Hud" was the name of a prophet who was sent to convert the Adites from idolatry. Dro is an honorific meaning "grandfather."_

_Ma'huda - "huda" is Arabic for "guidance;" Ma' is the honorific for "child/virgin."_

_Ma'rawl - "rawl" is Ta'agra for "rain;" Ma' meaning "child/virgin."_


	4. Shurh

_**Disclaimer: ** I do not own anything pertaining to The Elder Scrolls franchise. It belongs to Bethesda and other respective sponsors. I am not receiving any monetary benefit from writing this fan-fiction; it is purely for my own and others' entertainment._

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Guest:** Thank you for reviewing! I really appreciate input, even if it's negative. Though if it is negative, I prefer constructive criticism as opposed to outright flaming (had that a couple of times with earlier fanfiction and I was much younger and more impressionable then so I took it very personally.) Now, it's more of a 'Ok, you didn't like it. Tell my WHY you didn't like it.' I also have issues with self-inserts and girls-falling-into-other-universes. I've only read a few that have really been enjoyable to read because a lot of them are unrealistic when it comes to 'Oh my god, look, I'm in this world and everything isn't as bad as I think it is.' That always frustrated me about these kinds of fics. It wasn't hard for the character to get where they are going. Where this fic was concerned, I was like 'Okay, if I was dropped into Tamriel, I would be totally unprepared for the harshness of it, especially Morrowind, where the people are as brutal as the land.' While Elsweyr might kick my ass (and it will), Morrowind is a whole different ball-park, especially from civilized Cyrodiil and the Summerset Isles._

_Please, let me know if something comes off strangely. I am trying to create an enjoyable reading experience and while I can't promise that everything will be perfect as far as world and lore is concerned, I definitely would like to know that if it isn't, why it isn't enjoyable. :) Glad you like it so far though and I look forward to hearing what you think!_

_**Jack: **Thanks so much for your detailed input! :D I'm so happy you've decided to follow my story and enjoy reading it! I hope I continue to keep you interested as the fanfiction continues!_

_**Note: **The word "shurh" means "be brave" in Ta'agra._

* * *

_**Chapter 4**_

_**Shurh**_

It was decided by Ri'lujayn and Dro'hud that Ma'huda would remain with us for the next two years to learn Rawlith Khaj. In that time, she would not be able to return to see her family in Torval, where Dro'hud made his fortune selling wine, on the southwestern border of Elsweyr; she would have to complete her training before she would be able to return home. Though I didn't understand much of the conversation, thanks to the language barrier, I understood that it would leave Ma'huda homesick and made me all the more determined to befriend her. After all, we would be working together to learn this art of fighting. It left me both excited and dreading the next morning when we laid down to sleep after the delicious meal that Ri'lujayn prepared.

Khajiiti cuisine was a strange but delightful mix of spicy and creamy curry with flat-bread. Do'amran explained that it was a popular dish and to enjoy the evening meal, as it was the most tasteful of the day. Otherwise, the flat-bread and some milk and water would be the consistency of mine and Ma'huda's daily meals for the next few years. We took to bed shortly after the evening meal and everything with Dro'hud had been settled. He would pay Do'amran and Ri'lujayn to train and keep Ma'huda until her training concluded.

The next morning, Ma'huda and I were quietly awakened by Do'amran. "Quiet now," he purred to both of us. "We do not wish to wake Dro'hud and Mother."

I slipped out of my bed, groggily, and moved towards the flap of the tent, where Do'amran stood. He handed me a leather water-skin and slipped out of the tent with Ma'huda and I in tow. He took us both to the local watering-hole just beyond the tents. The watering hole was surrounded by sheep and camels, and had I not been so tired, I might have been more repulsed by the idea that I would be drinking from the very same water as the camp's camel and sheep. What did these people know about water sanitation after all?

When the water was gathered, Do'amran turned back to us. "We run a mile," he said, pointing to the north. "There is a ruin there where I have set up your training grounds."

I dreaded this run. Not only would I have to run, which I wasn't fond of anyway, but I'd also have to keep an eye out for scorpions and snakes, but perhaps that was the point, to be aware of my surroundings lest I be bitten. It made me nervous, and we hadn't had breakfast so an early morning run was not looking all that delightful, but I didn't have a choice as both Do'amran and Ma'huda started bolting across the dunes. They were twice as fast as I was to get to the training grounds, their digitigrade feet digging easily into the ground, powerful legs forcing them up the dunes and their tails balancing them on their way down. My own feet were far more clumsy, sinking into the sand as I forced myself up the dunes and slid down them. However, my first dune sent me rolling like an upright tire down the decline, kicking sand up into my face and leaving me blind for a good minute or so.

I forced myself to get back up, wiping the sand out of my eyes as I struggled up the next incline.

By the time I reached the last dune, I understood that in order to get down the dune safely without rolling, I had to steel my legs and lock my knees, sitting back a bit on my heels to help me slide down nicely. I panted heavily when I reached the ruins of which Do'amran spoke. My feet, unused to such abuse, were truly beginning to hate me now. My lungs burned and I panted heavily, feeling the sweat moisten my face and neck. Thankfully, the morning was fairly cool, as the sun hadn't risen beyond the horizon yet.

Do'amran smirked at me as I approached himself and Ma'huda, who was lounging on the ground. "You're so slow, Ma'rawl. Tomorrow, you'll be faster."

"Tomorrow, I'll be dead," I complained, still panting and bending over with my hands on my knees.

The Khajiit chuckled and spoke in a joking tone to Ma'huda, who just shook her head. Neither, it appeared, were very impressed with what I had to say. I ignored them, taking a look around the ruins. At first when he said ruins, I thought it might be an old city or something of that sort, but it appeared to be the ruins of a shrine. There was a large platform at the center of eight pillars. Everything were eroded by sandstorms and monsoons, any painted figures upon the pillars and along the edges of the platform were lost to time. I imagined that only the Khajiit knew what was once written and drawn here.

"Is this a shrine?" I questioned, just to make sure that I was correct in my original assumption.

Do'amran nodded. "Many years ago, this land was lush," he said. "Many Khajiit came far and wide to see this place but eventually, the desert spread and the pilgrims stopped coming. The keepers of the Shrine moved north to the jungles." He pointed to the platform. "There was a large statue of Azurah there once but her followers took it with them when they left."

My breathing slowed and I stood up straight, looking towards the platform. "And this is where we'll train?"

"Yes," Do'amran said. "And when the caravan moves, this is where we will remain until you have completed your training."

I considered that and what it meant. After the caravan moved, we would be entirely on their own out here. There was a part of me that was excited for that. I'd always wanted to try living off the grid in my own world but now I would actually be doing so in this world. Things were going to get very hard though as I would be learning to survive. In Mundo, though my family hadn't been rich, we'd had enough to live well. We ate well, there was a roof over our heads, and we had extra money for things like computers and things we wanted. If I wanted to take a trip, all I had to do was save up for it. Here, things were very different. It was not survival of the mediocre, but survival of the fittest and I would only survive if I was willing to learn.

Luckily for Do'amran, I was the type to take training gladly and complain about the pain later. I pushed away the pain in my feet and lungs. "Well, come on then! Let's start!"

By the end of the day, I regretted that statement. I don't think even my self-defense training could compare to the training for Rawlith Khaj. Between the endurance training which was a barrage of different strengthening exercises, push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups...and forcing my body to stretch in ways it wasn't used too, pain became a sudden and very unwelcome guest. Our noon meal of pita and a thick disgusting paste meant to give us energy did little to ease my desire to continue this. When we returned later in the afternoon, I had absolutely no desire to go and speak with Ja'bril. My only desire involved food and my bed of silk pillows.

Thankfully, Ja'bril only smiled at me when I arrived, ragged and tired. He didn't seem to mind how exhausted I was and pointed to the pillows on the floor where I'd slept yesterday. "Take a nap if you like," he said, peering over a leather-bound book. "I'll wake you once I'm done with this chapter."

I took my nap gratefully but when I woke, I was more sore than when I went to sleep. Ja'bril greeted me with water and some pita, and once more we continued my language training.

I learned from my college classes that learning to speak the language was one thing but to truly understand it also involved a mix of culture and history. The words I learned that day involved the use of questions.

_Maan?...Who?_

_ Darr?...What?_

_ Q'zi?...When?_

_ Eyna?...Where?_

_ Kador?...Why?_

_ Lik?...How?_

_ Kaamlik?...How many?_

_ Bikaamlik?...How much?_

Learning these words and other basic vocabulary continued to broaden my speech. I learned to roll my R's more effectively and though things were always easier when I had them written down, I forced myself to memorize them by speaking them repeatedly. At my askance, after our initial lesson, I inquired the significance of the moon festivals every month. Ja'bril excitedly explained to me _ja'kha'jay_. _Ja'kha'jay_ translated into the Common Tongue meant 'Lunar Lattice', the phases of the moons.

It briefly reminded me of how, when I was all of fifteen, I eagerly studied Wicca and the changing of the moons, waning and waxing, full and new. It helped me then to understand when the moon made me, as a Witch, stronger and when it would make my spells stronger. Only, as a teen, I'd underestimated the Three-Fold Law, which stated that whatever I sent out would come back on me three-fold. I thought cursing my lying ex to a year of hell would do nothing to me; only the next three years of my life left me miserable. Of course, many people in my life didn't understand Wicca and didn't want too, feeling it to be something with devilish intentions. One thing people failed to understand about Wicca or any other religion was that one needed to believe in the magick or the faith for it to actually have any real effect on one's life. Without belief, religion was nothing.

I stopped spell-casting then and took to a more Buddhist path. I didn't seek to change the outcome anymore, to hurt those who hurt me, to learn the future, but to find peace in the moment. I found myself quietly content, aching but content, as Ja'bril explained that Masser and Secunda, the moons of this world called Nirn, were mostly opposites throughout the year. While Masser was waxing, Secunda would wane. When Masser was new, Secunda was full. Only at one particular time would both Secunda and Masser be full together, a rare occurrence. The positions of the moon would effect the shape and appearance of the Khajiit at birth. In the case of that rare occasion, in which both moons were full and a cub was born, this cub would be named the Mane, the official leader of the Khajiit people. He would braid the shorn hair of his brethren into his own hair, creating an enormous Mane.

Khajiit weren't shape-shifters, however; the moons wouldn't effect them after their birth, and in no way, Ja'bril insisted, were the phases of the moon and the consequent effect on the Khajiit related to lycanthropy.

Lycanthropy was a state of infection on Nirn, a disease that turned the infected person into a werewolf when the moon rose. In most cases, werewolves were able to control their change, bringing upon themselves their beast form at least once a day, but unable to control it during the full moon.

The moon festivals were held each month when the moons were full and promised a night of ritual, tribute, moon milk and dancing. It was meant to continue the connection between their gods and themselves. Askance for blessings were done during this time, and occasionally, the gods would bless them with a sign of their approval. A god was assigned to each month, some gods worshiped together as there were only twelve months in a year.

I asked to learn the months of the year and Ja'bril gladly introduced me to the calendar, helping me to understand how the months coincided with the seasons. I was able to use what I knew to map it out in my head according to my own understanding of Mundo's calendar.

_ Morningstar...January_

_ Sun's Dawn...February_

_ First Seed...March_

_ Rain's Hand...April_

_ Second Seed...May_

_ Midyear...June_

_ Sun's Height...July_

_ Last Seed...August_

_ Hearthfire...September_

_ Frostfall...October_

_ Sun's Dusk...November_

_ Evening Star...December_

An explanation of the days of the week delighted me as well. Things were so similar between Nirn and Mundo in this instance. _Sundas, Morndas, Tirdas, Middas, Turdas, Fredas, and Loredas...Thankfully, these words were simply taken from the Common Tongue to be used in Ta'agra, so I didn't have to memorize extra words for the very same thing._

"So which month are we currently in?" I questioned.

"Sun's Dusk," answered Ja'bril. "And today is Middas. We're coming on the winter monsoons next month. There will be a lot of rain then, which will do you well. I'm sure that Do'amran will have you and Ma'huda dig a watering hole before then."

_Great, _I thought. _One more thing I don't want to do._

Do'amran sent Ma'huda to retrieve me as the sun began to fall. Exhaustion settled into my bones as she and I headed for the tent. Outside, Do'amran and Ri'lujayn spoke as the Clan Mother sewed the blue canvas of a tent. I touched my forehead, bearing my palms to Ri'lujayn, who only smiled at me and returned to her sewing. Dro'hud was nowhere to be seen. I seated myself beside her, watching her and trying to calm my mind now that I had so much more new information to log into my memory.

"That one knows how to sew?" questioned the Clan Mother.

"Do'oh," I replied with a soft laugh. _Not well._

She smiled in a motherly way. "Ropal ahziss pur."

I quirked a brow. _What did she say?_ I asked myself, only recognizing _ahziss_, which meant 'I.'

The little voice in the back of my head snorted. _What did it sound like she said?_

I thought about how she said it, her tone, and the motherly look on her face. It reminded me of my mother asking me about my day. I spoke to her about it as best I could with my limited vocabulary, which seemed to please her. She asked her questions and I did my best to guess what she meant. This continued through supper and though I could barely keep up with all three speaking, though that didn't keep Do'amran from picking on me. I learned quickly that Ma'huda was a quiet khajiit, reserved and watchful. While Ri'lujayn and Do'amran happily chatted together, Ma'huda remained silent as she ate her pita and curry.

I made sure I didn't wolf down my food, so as to avoid retching it up but once the food was gone from my plate, Ri'lujayn set me to cleaning the dishes before she would allow me to lay down and go to bed. I fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillows.

* * *

When Do'amran woke me again, I was sore as ever, the muscles in my chest burning, my legs aching, but I dragged myself out of bed and to the watering-hole. Three days without a bath had me feeling sticky but Do'amran wouldn't wait for me to bathe. He wanted to begin the day's training. I filled my water-skin and took off with them as best I could. Do'amran was right though. I was faster than the day before after figuring out how to slip down the dunes.

The days passed fairly quickly. Training in the morning, language in the afternoon, free time in the evening. My body grew tougher with each day. My soft feet grew leathery and my pale skin that once burned so easily became beautifully bronze. My golden locks lightened, kissed by the sun. I looked like a wood nymph before I came but my slender body became hard with muscle. Ma'huda and I spent a whole day digging a watering-hole near the shrine to support us when the caravan moved. Ri'lujayn taught me how to properly spice and store food, how to make jerky from sheep's meat, how to catch scorpions and vipers...

I never imagined being one to enjoy eating snake but after my first taste, I couldn't get enough. Cooked slowly and gently over a fire, snake's meat reminded me of chicken but with a more chewy texture. When I caught my first snake, I was more than eager to eat it. Ri'lujayn instructed me on how to skin it properly and told me to always cut it's head off before anything else. Throwing the head in the fire would ensure that no one became poisoned if accidentally stepped on. What's more, honey-drenched scorpions became a favorite treat. They were crunchy but sweet, cooked over the fire until they were brown and doused in honey.

Ma'huda and I became closer as my language improved. In exchange for teaching her the Common Tongue, she taught me how to sneak. I was terrible when we first started this, unable to even get a hit on her as she bid me sneak around the pillars at the shrine and attack her. Frustrated but determined, as I was with everything, I improved as the days went on. We weren't necessarily best friends, as she was so reserved a creature, but I began to understand her a lot more. She had a dry sense of humor and perfected the dead-pan look that often informed me that she thought I was stupid. She reminded me of my sister, which occasionally left me homesick and missing my family.

I wondered often what happened in Mundo while I was here in Nirn. Did my family know I was missing? Were they looking for me? I could only imagine what it would be like for them to wake and find me gone, and unable to find me. I sought Ri'lujayn's guidance in that case. Promises that Azurah would take care of it and not to worry eased me some.

I learned quite a bit about how to manage hygiene while staying with the caravan. The khajiit themselves took to grooming one another and it was an important part of bonding in families. However, as I wasn't full of fur, grooming me wasn't something that seemed pleasant. Given that water wasn't something in abundance, I took a sponge bath every three days. Shaving became a trial and error sort of situation, as I learned to shave with a knife. Cuts and scrapes were prominent my first two weeks. Ri'lujayn helped to wash my hair twice a week, using a mix of herbs to make my hair smooth and shiny, and to moisturize my dry scalp. I grew used to doing my business in broad daylight, as nobody was really fazed by it, simply a course of nature.

Attempts to make friends went well, as khajiit seemed naturally hospitable. Perhaps it was merely being the Star-Child that afforded me such kindness but every time I entered a new tent, they offered me food and drink. Even if I wasn't hungry or thirsty, I took it gratefully and made every attempt to be as polite as possible. After all, I was a mere stranger and they were inviting me into their home. In Mundo, I might have refused politely but I could never bring myself to do so here. I attempted to make amends with the khajiit that I punched the night of my arrival after catching some of the younger males pointing and teasing him. Now that I was able to speak Ta'agra, I could apologize and though I wasn't sure how to make up for it, I came to a rather interesting solution.

The khajiit I struck, a male named S'raddir, was gathered with a group of warriors in a bright red tent. He was tall, broader than I remembered the night of our fisticuffs. It made me nervous to approach him. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to react toward him or if he would react badly toward me. Plucking up my needed courage, I approached them.

"Tala'baliji," I greeted them all, touching my forehead.

They paused in their conversation and greeted me silently, touching their foreheads as well. The awkwardness of the silence did nothing to quell my anxiety but I looked to S'raddir.

"Ahzirr pur?" I questioned. _Can we speak?_

There was silence and then a nod as S'raddir left his comrades. He stood nearly a head and a half taller than me and followed me out of the tent.

"Darr jer vakako?" S'raddir inquired. _What do you want? _There was nothing cold in his voice, just genuine curiosity.

"Azhiss thjiz yashurra," I explained. "Azhiss jer hokoh zeri woka." _I'm sorry. I hit you._

He was silent, as if there were a grudge still hanging in the air and he required more than just an apology to make up for his embarrassment. How could I show my sincerity? I considered that I had very little to offer in the way of gifts, no money to speak of, but then it struck me and most people would think I was incredibly stupid for thinking this but to me, it made a great amount of sense. I remembered how Ja'bril explained that the Mane would braid the hair of his tribe into his own hair and create that immense mane for which he was named. Could I do the same with this? Would he even accept it?

I backed up and took my knife out of its sheath, using the ponytail at the nape of my neck as a marker. Locks broke against the blade's sharpness and after a moment, left only a long tail of hair. To me, it was just hair. I'd chopped my hair several times before, even going so far as to shave it once. I considered doing the same again as I held the ponytail of hair out to him.

"Azhiss thjiz yashurra," I insisted.

S'raddir just stared at me, surprised, dark eyes locked with mine. It took him several silent moments to reach out and take the hair from my hand, golden and fine. I didn't mourn the loss of it and hopefully, I'd gained a friend. I worried though. Would he take it as an insult? He might. I could just imagine him being a human man and what he would say if his pride was hurt too much...

_You think this is supposed to make things better?_ I imagined him saying. _You offer me your hair and I'm just supposed to forgive you? Well, fuck you! You've caused me to lose face! And now everyone in the caravan is laughing at me!_

However, the smile that danced across his lips told me he wouldn't speak to me in that way. He put a hand on my head and ruffled my now short hair. "Mokoh." _Don't worry._

I smiled at him, glad for his forgiveness. What's more, when I saw him the next day, his long black hair was streaked with gold.

* * *

_Sorry that took me so long! I got into a bit of a rut! But hopefully, the next chapter will come a little faster! :) Also, I hope I'm not irritating anyone by putting in the language stuff. I know that irritates some people but Ta'agra is such a challenge and with a limited vocabulary to draw from it's just way too much fun NOT to use it! Read and review, please?_

_**Glossary**_

_Maan – from the Arabic word 'man' meaning 'Who?'_

_Darr? - What? - Derived from Ta'agra word "kakadarr" which means "What kind"._

_Q'zi?...When? - Ta'agra word meaning "when"_

_Eyna?...Where? - from Arabic word "ayna" meaning "where"_

_Kador?...Why? - Ta'agra word meaning "why"_

_Lik?...How? - Derived from Ta'agra word "ashlik" meaning "anyhow"_

_Kaamlik?...How many? - Mix of "lik" and derivative of Arabic phrase for "Kam?" meaning "How many?"_

_Bikaamlik?...How much? - Mix of "lik" and derivative of Arabic phrase "Bikam?" meaning "How much?"_

_Do'oh – Not well. "oh" is a negative indicator in Ta'agra._

_Ropal azhiss pur. - Tell me about your day. Literally "Your day [to] me speak/tell."_

_Azhirr pur – Can we speak? Literally "We speak/tell?"_

_Darr jer vakoko? - What do you want? Literally "What you wish?"_

_Azhiss thjiz yashurra. - I'm sorry. Literally "I foolish feel." The word "yashurra" is derived from the Arabic word "yaš3ura," which means "to feel". I believe it's directed specifically towards a woman in Arabic but don't quote me on that..._

_Azhiss jer hokoh zeri woka. - I hit you. Literally "I you heavy force caused." Wo – indicates past-tense, always used a prefix._

_Mokoh – Don't worry. Literally "Worry-NEGATION."_


	5. Rokha'jay Lorkhaj

_**Disclaimer: ** I do not own anything pertaining to The Elder Scrolls franchise. It belongs to Bethesda and other respective sponsors. I am not receiving any monetary benefit from writing this fan-fiction; it is purely for my own and others' entertainment._

_**Author's note: ** The title of this chapter is "Rokha'jay Lorkaj" which translates from Ta'agra to "Lorkhan's Moon." Due to Khajiit lore regarding how Lorkhaj's heart was full of the Great Darkness, I feel the last month of the year/December, called Evening Star in Tamriel is appropriate._

_**Harmoniedusoir: **Thank you so much for your review! I damn near hugged my screen when I saw how beautifully detailed it was and your praise is much appreciated! :D I draw my inspiration largely from what I have researched about Bedouin tribes because khajiit of the desert move so much and I was instantly reminded of a favorite book of mine as a child: Shabanu, Daughter of the Wind. It gave me quite a bit of inspiration towards the culture. As for the language, really I'm only using certain words from Arabic. I do multiple searches to make sure I'm using the right word for inspiration and then give it my own little twist or change the letters in order to keep it from being an exact Arabic word. _

_Also, I chose "Mundo" because I am a Spanish major and "Mundo" means "World." The reason the words "Mundus" and "Mundo" are so alike is because Spanish is a Romance language. It stems from Latin. "Mundus" is "world" in Latin. I was a little worried about getting it mixed up with that but exactly as you said, I don't know anything about the planes of existence._

_As for the "Do'ahziss korabi," it means "I'm good." Literally translated: Do' – Good; azhiss – I; ko – present tense indicator, 2nd person + rabi – have. And the reason you use the present tense 2nd person indicator is because as Khajiit, I = 'this one,' which isn't first person. At least, that's the case in Morrowind, so I'm sticking to that. _

_I will be going into Morrowind, yes. Actually, I was always curious about how the prisoner ended up on the boat in the first place and I will actually be going into immense detail on how I will end up in Morrowind, following the Outlander's plotline later on. Anyway, this fanfiction will be done in five parts, between ten and twelve chapters each. I may need more for later "parts" but that's my plan for it currently. Also, if you love the language bit, I promise, I will be carrying that fun over into Yoku (the language of the Redguards) and Dunmeri. Plot-wise, things are going to begin rolling this chapter, so read on! :D And enjoy!_

_**Jack: ** Thanks again for reading! As for grammar and spelling mistakes, I usually slap my spell-check before I put things in. Occasionally, I miss stuff but I think that's to be expected when I'm not writing professionally and don't have a beta reader or an editor to ensure that I have everything corrected. I've considered asking a friend for help but she knows zilch about any of the Elder Scrolls games. And just because I like to poke fun..."grammer" is spelled "grammar." Hehe. :) Anyway, no, I don't come from the Middle East but I've read a fair amount of books based there, my big inspirations coming from Shabanu, Daughter of the Wind by Suzanne Fisher Staples and The Princess Trilogy by Jean Sasson. Both go from the point of view of Muslim girls. The first book is centered around a camel-herder's daughter, so I got more of an idea about rustic, Bedouin Arabs and the second set of books is based on the life of a Saudi princess named Sultana. As for speaking Arabic as a second language, I speak very little at all beyond simple greetings and the words I've researched to bring into Ta'agra for the sake of this fic. I always check and recheck words to make sure I'm using the right one and not some off-shoot of the word I want to use. _

_Like I said to harmoniedusoir though, I will be going to Morrowind, but "I" know very little of the history surrounding Nerevar and the doomed Dwemer as a character in the story. There will be some hints and research before I get there, but I have five parts with ten to twelve chapters each. I won't reach Morrowind until Part III. There's a whole arc on how I end up on that boat in the first place. Have patience and I will deliver, I promise. :) Your reviews and everyone else's just fuels me on to keep writing and though I'm not very consistent, I am so glad you all have continued to read and review this!_

* * *

_**Chapter 5**_

_**Rokha'jay Lorkhaj**_

_4Years Later..._

I huffed as J'huda slammed me in the chest with the butt of her spear, sending me flat on my back. I wheezed, pain exploding in the afflicted regions, but I knew I couldn't just lie there. Do'amran was waiting just behind me with a cane of bamboo, ready to strike me as soon as I slowed up. S'raddir, who stayed when the caravan moved on, waited at the other side of the platform to do the same to J'huda. I had two angry red lines on my left arm from where he'd caught me earlier. I recovered quickly, and rolling my knees back to my chest, I flung myself upwards onto my feet, swiping at J'huda's feet with my own spear. The female dodged easily and swung at me. Parrying, I forced her spearhead down to the stone beneath our feet, only to swing my foot upwards, launching myself over both spears. My left foot impacted J'huda's jaw while my other foot met the ground, keeping me balanced. A series of strikes, lunges and parries created a barrage of attacks following. I dodged easily, my body anticipating her movements, my eyes watching hers for signs of deception. J'huda was a cunning fighter and very good at feigning one move to bring another. It kept me on my toes though and so I gladly took her on.

Those watching cheered. Though the caravan I began with was long gone, another ended up at the ruins. This caravan was three times the size of the last, with nearly four hundred khajiit in its ranks. They stopped for the upcoming moon festival to celebrate Lorkhaj, the Moon Beast. It was the middle of Evening Star and the rains had all but washed us out. The weather was favorable today though, the sun out to greet us though the clouds were overhead, threatening to downpour. It mattered little to J'huda or I though. We would keep training even if the rain soaked us both. I could briefly recall how during my first year, when the rains came, how Do'amran forced us to stand in the thick mud next to our watering-hole with an enormous iron ball in our hands. He made us jump until our legs gave out and we were soaked to the core. Sickness and fever took me over the first rain but that wasn't anything that Ri'lujayn couldn't fix. She had me out in the mud again the next day. Rawlith Khaj grew more and more difficult as time went on. Along with endurance training and melee training, we found ourselves learning a whole slew of weapons and earning our share of nicks, cuts, and stab-wounds. I managed to nail J'huda in the stomach with the tip of my sword once and though I felt absolutely terrible for hurting my new sister, Ri'lujayn handed her a healing potion and then shoved her back onto the platform that became our battle arena. Of course, she paid me back two-fold and I drank my share of health potions that day as well.

My training didn't just include Rawlith Khaj though. Shortly after my name changed from Ma'rawl to Ja'rawl, and Ma'huda's to J'huda (the J and Ja signifying our transition into young adulthood), Ri'lujayn took me under her wing and began to teach me Mysticism. Though khajiit weren't naturally adept to other forces of magicka in Elsweyr, Mysticism seemed almost natural to those trained well by an elder. Ri'lujayn's training involved much meditation and the occasional ingestion of moon-sugar to help induce visions. I learned to absorb magicka and health from other creatures, and to detect creatures, enchantments, and even Soultrap, though Ri'lujayn had few soul gems to speak of and I wasn't exemplary at such a spell. However, learning telekinesis was a thrill. The first time I lifted a simple cup off the ground with only my mind, I was so excited I lost concentration and the Terra-cotta cup smashed against the table. Since then, my powers only grew.

Ja'bril, who also remained behind with us, used the opportunity of the arriving caravan to teach me how to barter. My offers consisted mostly of snake-skin belts, caiman-skin bags, and fang and claw jewelry. My first attempt at wrangling a caiman nearly took my nose off, leaving both J'huda and S'raddir laughing hysterically. We'd taken a trip to an oasis about five miles to the north of our camp and a bet with both khajiit had me in the shallows of the lake, dragging an enormous black caiman out by his tail. I pounced but underestimated the strength of the alligator and went flying as he struggled to get out from under me. He came at me and I'd rolled, barely missing a chomp at my face. I didn't give up till I killed the thing, taking it home as a trophy, even though my hands were cut up from his sharp scales and bruises covered my legs where he struck me with his long tail, I wore the beast's top incisors for earrings. Besides that particular creature, I learned that basilisks could be found in the desert, though thankfully desert basilisks were blinded by sunlight, which kept them from turning people to stone, and if one were able to bait it out of its den, killing it would be an easier feat. Though that wasn't to say that killing a basilisk was simple. They could hear and sense heat so well, they'd know where you were, even if you were floating ten feet in the air.

I had one chance encounter with a desert basilisk and it took four of us to kill it. Each of us came close to dying that day, including myself. Pumped full of venom after a bite to the side and going down fast, I could remember even to this day how the venom burned through me. You may as well have doused me in hydrochloric acid, the venom was so potent. As always Ri'lujayn and her potions saved the day, though I'd spent nearly two weeks abed, recovering. Still, we had snake meat to last us the better part of a year. We smoked it and stored it away. Ri'lujayn collected the venom before we burned its head and proceeded to take and wash the many fangs. They made us an excellent amount of money when the caravan arrived. Very few khajiit were able to kill a basilisk and live to tell the tale so it only earned our small family more recognition. I wore one of the beast's long fangs around my neck these days. Though now, as J'huda and I fought, it was not safe to wear jewelry. Tonight, I would don my fanged earrings and necklace along with my best red and black clothes to celebrate the festival.

Summoning nearby sand with a wave of my hand, I flung it at my sister and took advantage as she was blinded by the small rush of sand. One might think the people watching would consider such a thing dirty tactics, but khajiit were known for their cunning and deception and they cheered all the more. J'huda growled as I returned her former move by nailing her in the chest with the butt of my spear. Only this time, (and I was lucky because J'huda usually beat me), the khajiit went flying from the platform, signaling the end of the fight. She rolled backwards and into a kneeling position, clutching her chest. She too wheezed and did her best to catch her breath after a strike so harsh.

My whole body was shaking from the exertion of this fight, sweat gleaming down my body, staining my silken _budi, _the shirt so popularly worn by the desert khajiit. The fight that lasted two long hours was finally at an end. The desire to stop never crossed our minds while we were fighting. We knew what we had to do. Do'amran expected more of us than to quit if we were tired. He wanted us to push ourselves to the very last and even though J'huda didn't win, the cheering khajiit picked her up and congratulated her on our good fight. I jumped down from the platform, spear in hand, and wiped the sweat from my brow. "Do'jer wokhi, aaliter." _You did well, my sister._

I offered her my hand as I approached her and she took my wrist, wrapping an arm around my shoulders in a fierce, affectionate hug. "An jer." _And you._

J'huda and I were closer than ever after so many months of having to depend on one another. We were indeed part of the same litter, or so Do'amran thought. If either of us messed up, the other would join in the punishment. The first time this occurred, Do'amran explained that it was to ensure that the other learned the same lesson as the guilty party. It reminded me of moments from my childhood when my blood-bound sister and I would be set to drills by my Army-trained step-father. He'd been a soldier since before I met him and when I turned about seven, instead of spanking us to punish us, he turned to giving us drills. Push-ups, sit-ups, wall-sits, the memories of my burning muscles once made me cringe. Now it seemed only a memory. My muscles burned now though and my rumbling stomach informed me that I was more than ready for snake meat and honeyed scorpions.

"Ajo baliji wokhi!" Do'amran said from the platform, now standing next to S'raddir and looking down at us. _You did wonderful!_ "Baliji in azhiss kokrin!" _I smile upon you both!_ "Azhiss fakhar yashurra!" _I am proud!_ "Jaji tenurr, vasa rokha'jay Lorkhaj, baliji nuv nak vaba kor!" _Tonight, beneath Lorkhan's Moon, both of you will know a new name._

I suddenly felt my heart jump into my throat as he purred out the last sentence. This had been our final trial. This fight between the both of us, how we showed off our skills to the khajiit around us, proved our strength and our exceptional styles. We'd trained hard and though our training with Rawlith Khaj was over, it was only the beginning of our journey. Khajiit did not believe one's journey ended until death. The feet would continue to move, the mouth to eat and to speak, the ears to hear, and the fist to crumble our enemies. The training was to end but the fight would never. I would take Rawlith Khaj with me until death swept me into her arms.

Now was no time to think on the grim circumstances of life and the true end for all creatures. It was time to celebrate and give thanks. I threw my arms around J'huda's neck, hugging her more fiercely than ever. She returned the hug and bit my ear with affection, as a kitten might do to its litter-mate. I returned the affectionate gesture. Cheers resounded all around us and I pulled away to look up at Do'amran, who grinned at us both. "Baliji banyan khiba."_ Go bathe. _"Jaji tenurr, azhirr da'khe kotra!" _Tonight, we drink!_

Grins on our mouths, we left the cheering crowd. Congratulatory bites on the ear made my ears red by the time I reached the watering-hole.

However, as we walked through the crowd, my eyes wandered, locking with a pair of mysterious brown eyes against a dark face. He was no khajiit, this man. He was human, like me, slender but muscular, and he wore blue clothes with a blue cowl, a scimitar tucked against his elbow as if he were carrying a cub in his arms. He had a well-trimmed beard and was a rather handsome fellow. It was the first time I'd seen another man in a very long time that wasn't covered with fur. What's more, the magnetism of his stare made me equally intrigued and uncomfortable. Who was he? I wanted to know. The mild intrigue that lit his eyes made my stomach tie into knots.

Both J'huda and I talked excitedly about our new names, wondering what Mother Ri'lujayn would call us now that we were full-grown adults. Sure enough, if we were any typical khajiit (and though I wasn't a khajiit myself, I'd worked myself up in their society), untrained in Rawlith Khaj, she might bless us simply with the adult prefix S. S'raddir himself was trained in Rawlith Khaj but refused to tell anyone what name his Clan Mother bestowed upon him. It was his own special secret and one he never dared reveal to anyone.

I felt the pride tighten in my chest as took my bucket to our tent, where J'huda and I took to sponging one another down. It was the closest thing to grooming I would get with J'huda or Ri'lujayn, as I wasn't allowed and refused to groom either S'raddir, Do'amran, or Ja'bril. It simply wasn't done. J'huda washed my hair, which was now knotted into khajiiti dreadlocks that fell to the center of my back. She rubbed crushed desert rose petals into them and we left them to dry while I did the same to hers. Afterward, our gowns, purchased from the bazaar, were donned. As it was the feast of Lorkhaj, red, white, and black were the colors most often worn. Red for Masser, white for Secunda, and black for the abyss surrounding the two moons believed to be Lorkhaj's corpse, or Lorkhan depending on who was worshiping. To the khajiit, though he was loved and despised for his great trickery, Lorkhaj was still worshiped gladly. He was the trickster god and a god of creation to the khajiit. He created Nirn, but to the Altmer, the golden-skinned elves of the Summerset Isles, he was an unholy power that robbed them of their ability to reach the spirit plane.

I imagined that Lorkhaj didn't really care, especially now that his heart was missing and he himself was nowhere to be found. According to Ja'bril, Lorkhaj hadn't given an inkling of his existence since the years of Nerevar, an ancient hero of Morrowind, the land of the dark elves. I would eventually find myself there and away from my new family, which was the only thing that seemed to dampen my mood.

Still, as I slipped into my beautiful black high-necked, sleeveless gown, placing red harem pants beneath, I felt accomplished. Azurah wished me to learn Rawlith Khaj, to protect myself, and the battles I fought over the years with Ri'lujayn and her people were only the beginning of my journey. I watched J'huda slip into her black budi and pants. She slipped one of my snake-skin belts around her waist, unwilling to make herself look more feminine. She had no desire to find a mate here. I couldn't blame her. She would likely return to Torval now that her training was done. With a great deal of sadness, I turned to her.

It was a rare thing, even in Mundo, for me to willingly shed tears in front of another person. I didn't like to cry in front of others; it made me feel vulnerable when I was so used to being the strong one. I was the eldest child in my family and that left me in a position where I had to be the one looking out for everybody. There was a sort-of duty for the eldest to be the best, in order to best influence the young ones. Though I never claimed to be the strongest or the best role model, I did try my best back home to keep my siblings from seeing me being emotional. In this instance though, I could hardly help myself as I finished putting my hair up and realized that the chapter of my life featuring the wild paradise of sandy Elsweyr was soon to end, that everything I knew was going to change, and I would probably never see my litter-mate or my new family again. I was even less hopeful of seeing the family I was born into and that seemed to make me feel all the more helpless. I lifted my many-times broken and magickally repaired glasses, wiping away the tears that welled in my eyes.

J'huda raised a brow at me, curious. "What?" she asked in the Common Tongue, fluent after so many years of practicing with me.

I sniffled a bit, trying to get a hold on my emotions before I turned into a sobbing wreck. "It's just that...everything is going to change now," I said, softly. "You'll go back to Torval, and Do'amran and the rest will move on with this caravan, and I'll be headed wherever Azurah points me."

J'huda purred a chuckle, putting a hand atop my head as if I were a silly cub, crying over spilled milk. "Our path cannot stay constant," she pointed out. "Change is the only constant in the world."

"I know." I let my glasses fall against my nose again and looked up into her dark eyes. "I will miss you."

"An jer azhiss."_ And I you._

After calming me down and slipping on my fanged earrings and necklace, the pair of us made our way out of the tent, closing the flap behind us. We could hear the drums and see the tips of the blazing bonfire at the far end of the caravan's tents. Laughter and song echoed in the air, signaling the beginning of the festival. Already I could hear Ri'lujayn singing the song meant to invoke Lorkhaj. He was unlikely to come but still she sang, her voice high but raspy and sweet, purring. As we headed towards the festivities, those dark eyes caught me again, but this time, he was headed towards me, this mysterious, handsome stranger.

He stopped as he reached me and bowed his head to both of us, touching his forehead in the typical khajiit way. "Tala'baliji," he greeted. My stomach tied itself into knots again as he spoke, his voice sweetly laced with an accent I didn't recognize. His voice was a low tenor, but not quite a bass, and I found myself briefly transported back to my childhood. This man reminded me of Azeem from _Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves_, but I could tell by his sharp aura that this man was nothing like Azeem. Azeem's character was strong and well-trained but moral and amiable when treated with respect. This man seemed to be amiable enough but something about him told me that he wasn't all he appeared to be. He looked like a mercenary.

J'huda seemed to sense this as well and glared at him, no answer emitting her mouth. That worried me. Usually if J'huda had a problem with someone, it was bad news.

"Tala'jer," I answered. I switched to the Common Tongue on a whim, wondering if he would be able to understand me. "You're not from Elswyer." It was an observation.

"No," he agreed. "I hail from Stros M'kai in Hammerfell."

"He's Redguard," J'huda said, looking at me with wary eyes. She didn't want me to talk to this man and though I could tell something was off with her and I should trust her instincts about this man, it was more often than not that I always had to learn things the hard way. I didn't see a reason to be rude, even if I didn't necessarily trust him and probably shouldn't.

"And I'm Nord. What's your point?" I questioned.

"You should not trust this man," J'huda growled at me, her voice on edge and her body rigid. The mysterious man didn't appear at all insulted by her words, only smirked at my answer.

"I don't," I raised a curious brow at her, "but that doesn't mean I should be rude to him either."

I decided though, if J'huda and I remained in this man's presence much longer, the female's claws would come out and his handsome face would be ruined. "Excuse us," I said, gently, to the man, who only nodded. I urged J'huda away from him and once we were out of ear-shot, I couldn't help but wonder why she was so offended by him. I knew very little about Redguards besides what Ja'bril told me. They were good warriors who defeated the Orcs many hundreds of years ago. "J'huda, kador jer orikah?" _Why are you concerned?_

J'huda stopped and looked to me. There was pain in her eyes, like I'd never seen before and she opened her jaws to explain but closed and opened them again before she could say. "Ragada aafado wovar dar." _A redguard killed my mother. _It came out choked, her voice broken by her inner pain. I knew how that pain felt. It was like having a fisherman's hook lodged in your wind-pipe and a chain tightened around the ribs.

That struck me hard. I'd always known J'huda to speak of Dro'hud with such fondness but she never spoke of her mother until now. I assumed that given the roughness of the terrain and how easily people died of various diseases that perhaps she'd simply died of a plague or something. However, this news gave me a fresh amount of sympathy for my litter-mate. I reached out to her and embraced her, tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Stay away from that man, aaliter," J'huda said. "He smells of trouble."

I nodded, though I knew that it wouldn't be possible to avoid the man unless I truly tried. Still, I wanted to quiet her mind. Urging her towards the bonfire, we found Ja'bril and Do'amran sitting with S'raddir and a comely khajiit woman. She was slender but blessed with curves, shocking green eyes, and golden fur against black spots, similar to a leopard. She was dressed in a black gown with golden earrings in her ears and golden bangles on her wrists. She appeared to have some manner of wealth and as she leaned against S'raddir, it struck me just who she was. S'raddir took to sneaking off after training in the mornings since the day the caravan arrived and though he was secretive in nature, one could never hide something from Ri'lujayn.

Nasrin was the woman's name and judging by the way she leaned against S'raddir, her hand resting on his thigh, and how his own tail swished contently, they were more than just friendly. I felt my heart swell a bit as she looked up at him, adoring him with her eyes. I could only hope that love would grow. S'raddir was a good khajiit, loyal and strong and loving in his own way. Were he human, I might have snagged him myself, but it was not to be. I smiled though and touched my forehead to Nasrin, seating myself by Ja'bril.

Ja'bril chuckled and leaned close to me, speaking softly. "Looks like S'raddir finally found a lady."

"I'm glad for him," I replied, watching the two nuzzle each other. "He deserves a good woman."

"He does," Ja'bril agreed, turning his head toward Ri'lujayn as her voice lowered and her song finished. "And now you get your new name."

"Brothers, sisters!" called Ri'lujayn in Ta'agra, beckoning to the caravan's Clan Mother, a considerably older khajiit, who brought forth the bowl of moon milk that would be passed from person to person until all the contents were gone. "Tonight, we celebrate the end of another year! We call upon Lorkhaj to bless this night! We call upon him to sharpen our minds and bless us with his bounty!" She smiled as she turned to J'huda and I, beckoning to us. "Tonight, we also celebrate the naming of two children. They will take their places in the world this night and with their new names, may Lorkhaj light their paths."

With grins on our mouths, we came forward as she bid. I stepped back a bit, letting J'huda receive her new name first, as she deserved it most. "Daughter," greeted Ri'lujayn. "You have worked very hard these last four years. You are a strong and cunning fighter, and you have a keen mind. For this, I shall name you, from this day until the end of your days, Dar'huda." I smiled at that, even though the prefix Dar had both positive and negative connotations. It was the prefix meant for thieves, but also, for cunning individuals. It suited her well.

Ri'lujayn took her drink of moon milk and then offered the bowl to my sister. She drank deeply from the bowl, pupils dilating as the drug took effect. Dar'huda handed the bowl back to her Clan Mother and bowed her head with thanks, stepping aside to allow me to take her place.

"Little star-child," Ri'lujayn greeted. I smiled at the sound of my nickname. "You came to us from a mysterious place and Azurah blesses you with her love. Tonight, you make her proud. I name you Jo'rawl, from this day to the end of your days." 'Jo'...the prefix for wizard. Was this a sign? Did this mean that Azurah wanted me to learn more magick? I felt my stomach tighten as Ri'lujayn revealed Azurah's desires for me through my new name. I enjoyed learning magick and I would chase it with reckless abandon.

She took another drink of the moon milk and then offered it to me. I took it gratefully, taking a swallow of the sweet milk that delighted my senses. I accepted my name, understood what I needed to do, but it mattered little as the moon milk made my eyes dance. I bowed with a blissful smile on my mouth. "Thank you, Mother," I said, gently.

I stood up straight again and smiled as Ri'lujayn declared that it was time to dance.

I didn't get a chance to understand what happened next though, as the entire world seemed to spin out of control. What's happening? I wondered as the whirling came to a jerking stop. I felt my own inner balance fail, making me so dizzy, I hit my knees just to anchor myself. I looked around wildly when the world came to a stop. I was now on a beach of white sand. The tides were black and the night above me was lit with a red moon. Where am I? I wondered.

"Good girl," drawled a soft voice behind me. It came out a smooth and sensual, like a lover whispering in my ear. "Right to your knees." The voice had multiple layers, giving me the impression that whoever spoke was a powerful being. Azurah's voice had a similar quality, but this voice was distinctly male. The voice was behind me and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. "Star-Child, they call you, little one. Jo'rawl...Mm, I can feel your power. Dormant still though. You won't unlock it for many years, I should think."

I didn't turn my head but then, I didn't need too, as the being came around me to stand in front of me. He was a stunning creature, a fair-skinned elf with a blanket of hair as white as fresh snow and strange bi-colored eyes. One eye shone bloody as the moon above and the other was milky, as if he were blind. He wore a long black robe and carried a staff made of black steel, crowned with a white orb. "Do you know who I am, kitten?" he drawled.

I tried to make sense of it, of where I was. This wasn't the bliss of Azurah's world nor the harshness of Elsweyr. This was a world of black and red, and I felt confused as it struck me that this being may be the very god we were celebrating. "Lorkhaj." It came from my mouth without much thought and a twisted grin showed a barrage of sharp teeth.

"Smart girl, aren't you?" he questioned, tilting his head, amused, pleased, and intrigued. "Now..." He came forward, cupping my chin with his long, clawed fingers. "Do you know why I've called you, my girl?"

I shook my head.

"No? Can't even venture a guess?" questioned the God of Trickery, a mocking tone lacing his voice. "Has Azurah told you nothing?"

"I don't speak to Azurah," I said, forgetting any sort of title. I was simply amazed by him. He was a beautiful and yet ugly creature, powerful and graceful, yet twisted and deranged. "Mother does."

The Aedra gave an amused chuckle. "They want you going in blind so you'll simply accept your fate," he sneered. "Follow blindly, little one, and you'll suffer."

My gut tightened with anxiety. "Who says I won't suffer now?" I questioned.

Another chuckle. "Oh, I've no intents on hurting you," he promised. "But as it's my heart you'll be going after, I should like you to be prepared." I raised a brow and he howled with laughter. "Oh, what betrayal you'll meet with the naivete, my girl! Come now..." He leaned down, strange eyes boring into mine. "Do you really think Ri'lujayn gives a damn about you or Azurah, for that matter, so long as you serve their purpose? Trust no one, my little kitten. The path you walk is lonely and awash with blood."

I felt a strong stinging feeling in my chest at the thought that maybe Ri'lujayn didn't love me, though she treated me as though she did, but I felt strength with the khajiit woman and so I wouldn't allow this Aedra, this god of tricksters, to force my faith in her to waver. I wanted to tell him that he only spoke so in order to get me where he wanted him, but my sense of self-preservation was greater than that. Sometimes silence was the better answer and so I remained silent.

He smirked, delighted by my defiance. He leaned down so that he was nose to nose with me. I felt very uneasy now. That basilisk bite made me all the more wary of sharp teeth and he could very well bite me if it suited him. "She's going to betray you, your dear mother is," he drawled. "She's going to marry you off when she gets the chance, kitten." I didn't want to believe that but this world was so different, so very unlike my own. Arranged marriages were typical here, where in Mundo, that practice was only typical in countries deeply engrained in their traditional cultures. Otherwise, the woman and man chose each other. Again, I remained silent and he chuckled.

"Your silence is amusing but I've got your lovely little mind going now," he purred. "So I'll return you from whence I found you and let you work out whether or not I'm lying to you. We'll meet again, I'm sure. Ta, darling!"

The world spun violently again and with a rush, I found myself back at the festival. Drums were loud in my ears and before me, Ja'bril was offering me an alwa, a small ball of moon sugar dunked in sticky red syrup. I didn't know what occurred while I conversed with Lorkhaj, but I was back to sitting with the group and I slowly lifted my hand, taking the sweet candy. My thoughts ran wild as I brought the candy numbly to my mouth, sucking on it.

What just happened? I wondered. Lorkhaj was thought to be lost and yet he called me into his realm, summoned me with his immense power.

The sweetness and effects of the moon-sugar in my mouth delighted my senses once more, leaving my eyes dancing. _Let's not worry about it now,_ I thought blissfully. _I can tell Mother tomorrow._ I laid back on the straw mat we were seated on and stared up at the night sky, which seemed to shift above me like a rolling sea.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** Chapter 5 is finally finished with a little foreshadowing for the next few chapters! :) Sorry I made Lorkhan out to be this strange Cicero/Lucius Malfoy cross-breed. Lol, I just kind of imagined him having some elegance to him but being a bit screwed up and deranged from a) the loss of his heart and b) being the god of tricksters, I imagine he's got a rather strange but cunning mindset._

_I figure since I've got the translations up now alongside the words, that I'd only do the glossary now for words that are in need of explaining, such as words I make up._

_Fakhar – proud; inspired by the Arabic word "fakhoron" meaning "proud."_

_Nuv – new; inspired by the word "nuevo", which is Spanish for 'new."_

_Banyan – bathe; inspired by the word "bañan" in Spanish, which means "you(plural) bathe" or "they bathe". The root verb is "bañar."_

_Also...the words "Azhirr da'khe kotra" literally translate as "We take water!" In Spanish, the verb "tomar" or "to take" can be used as drink. So...for example, "Yo tomo una cerveza." Even though it translates literally as "I take a beer," the idea of drinking that beer is implied. I figure that even though Do'amran actually spoke of drinking moon-milk and boozing it up for the party, "water" or "da'khe" in this case takes on the implied meaning. So it may sound goofy for those of you who are maybe looking into Ta'agra via websites, but there's a reason I used the wording that way._

_Please, read and review, and thanks again to all those reading! I really appreciate it! :D_


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